


Living, Present Tense.

by plaidpie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/F, Mild Gore, Suicidal Thoughts, Tragedy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidpie/pseuds/plaidpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is death. But there is also life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living, Present Tense.

Despite popular opinion, Ymir is not heartless, nor is she uncaring. She doesn’t cry when Levi’s squad dies. She doesn’t cry when she hears Eren sobbing into his jacket sleeve. Ymir just isn’t a crier. She bottles it up instead, never lets it out, allows things to fester and boil. She thinks she might cry if Krista were to die. Maybe she would even die herself. Krista’s the one bright spot. Without her, what’s to live for, anyway? Suicidal thoughts aren’t dealt with in the Scouting Legion. When people give up, it’s the end. There’s no way to reassure or make things better – because this life is gory and dark and horrible. Even Krista, who was once so innocent (and is now covered in the blood of both Titans and comrades), understands that well enough.

Ymir counts herself lucky that the people she loves are still alive. She didn’t get attached to Petra and the rest of the Levi Squad. She knew that it was only a matter of time. After all, the more people you care for, the more you have to lose. She knew that long before she joined the Legion.

Even so, she feels a deep ache in her chest. _Why. Why does this happen to us? Is this really – really –_

_Hell?_

She turns to look at Krista. The girl’s hair is matted with dirt and blood and sweat. Her face doesn’t look much better. There are dark bags under her eyes, a shadow marring the irises. She looks so dead, hollow. Ymir can’t stand it. She grits her teeth and turns away. She can’t look at Krista. She can’t look at any of them. Not without feeling more than she knows she should – not without acknowledging how fucked up this world is.

_I want to die._

Ymir doesn’t often think about it. She doesn’t let herself. Armin once told her he tries not to think, tries not to imagine what his own death will be like someday (and it will come, of course it will. They will all eventually die, probably from the hands of a Titan). Thinking of her own death doesn’t bother Ymir. She’ll do what she can, do what she wants, and then if it’s her time to go – then that’s that. She doesn’t care as much as she should about her own life. She doesn’t care as much as she should about when or how or why it will happen.

But, _gods_ , she cares too much about what will happen to the others.

_(She cares too much about what has already happened to the ones she loves)._

\------------------------------- - -

_I want to die. I want to die. I want to die._

Krista can’t stop thinking it. She wants so badly to just leave everything behind her. It hurts too much. It _hurts!_ And she wants to rip out the hurt, wants to forget that so many are dead. She feels grimy and dirty and she can’t _think_ properly and – _gods_ , she wants to _die._

She doesn’t look at Ymir, even though she can feel the other girl’s stare drilling a hole into her head for a few seconds. And then there’s nothing. Even Ymir, usually so unaffected, cannot look at her or anyone else. Is this truly how things will end for them all? Is this to be their fate, one day?

_Ymir._ The name sends a calming jolt down Krista’s spine. Even if she can’t look at her friend right now, even if she can’t verbalize how she’s feeling, just the _name_ makes her feel slightly better. It’s not enough to erase the pain, but it’s still _enough._ Slowly, the _I want to die_ evaporates like Titan blood from her mind. She’s feeling strong enough to grip the horse’s reigns and center herself a bit. She does a mental checklist.

_I’m alive. I have a slight head injury. I’m alive. I have bruises and cuts. I’m alive. Nothing’s broken. I’m dirty and bloody, but – but – I –_

_I’m alive._

Tears well up in her eyes and drip down onto the horse’s equally dirty mane. _I’m alive. We’re alive._ It’s enough, for now. To know that she’s alive, to know that Ymir is alive. It’s enough, it’s enough. She smiles through her tears, gritting her teeth against the wave of sadness and hopelessness. So many are dead and yet – and yet –

_And we’re alive. And I’m happy. I’m so happy that we’re alive._

She feels immediate guilt. But overlaying that is the complete and utter relief. The relief that, even though nothing is solved yet, even though they still have to deal with the fact that Eren transformed again without permission and half of their squad is dead or missing, they are _alive._ Ymir is alive. Krista’s friends are alive.

And she is so _thankful._

“Ymir,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from disuse. The older girl turns to her, confusion flicking in her gaze.

“Yeah?” Ymir says, the word heavy and toneless. Krista almost loses her nerve, almost descends back into that crushing depression, but she holds herself steady.

“We’re alive.”

For a moment, Ymir says nothing. There is something undefinable in the expression on her face, something like muted disbelief. She stares at Krista and Krista stares back, unwavering. Then, the side of her mouth pulls up in a parody of a smile.

“Hmm,” Ymir answers, “I suppose that’s the truth _._ ”

The dark haired girl reaches over and tangles her fingers with Krista’s, squeezing the delicate appendage in her own.

Krista knows that Ymir will not cry.

So she cries –

_For both of them._


End file.
